A Stray Sun
by Tamuril Telrunye
Summary: When the lines for reality begin to blur, where does the dream end and the nightmare begin? OC Centric sorta Crossoverish
1. Magdalene of Tears

A/N: I know, I'm being bad and not adding chapters to BAGTWT. Truth it that I don't have a lot of time right now. This story has been sitting around on my hard drive for awhile, so I though I could give it some light. I don't really know how good it is, but I figure if people like it enough I could give it a go. I have a few chapters at least.

Warnings: Possibly spoilerific! Blood, gore, religious stuff that is standard in Silent Hill, as well as Clive Barkers Jericho. Why I thought it would be cool to mix the two, I do not know. This fic also contains some loosely represented material from both game franchises, as well as some bits from the Silent Hill movie. Since despite being a movie based off a game, it really did define itself in a beautiful way from any other game/movie adaptations.

Disclaimer: They've come to witness the beginning. The rebirth of paradise despoiled by mankind. I have nothing to do with this; ergo I do not own it. If you recognize it? Probably not mine, if you don't? Probably is. Please ask if you wish to use any of my insane elements in anything you want to do. Or at least give me links? I am a horrible fan-girl of fan-girls. Figure that one out.

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Tamuril Telrunye Presents:

**A Stray Sun**

Chapter One: No Sun

A Silent Hill/Jericho Crossover

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_ "In the darkness the dragon wakes; to a cold heart the dragon takes. You by my side the dragon sleeps; on dragon wings our wishes leap."_

_Fanalian Lullaby; Escaflowne._

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_ Chapter 1: _**Magdalene of Tears**

** '**_In the beginning, people had nothing.'_

Said a voice from the back of my hazy mind, a smoky feminine voice that seemed familiar but distant. The first sensation of being, that I could at the moment remember. That and the numb sort of vertigo that flitted in and out, like a tide swirling through my body.

My body... Me. Who was I? Where was I? And why did I feel like I'd been through a fifth of tequila and an ass kicking? It was dark, _~perhaps, if you opened your eyes it wouldn't be so dark~ _and it felt as though the ground bellow me was moving. I struggled to open my eyes, noting as well a strange chanting noise that seemed to eddy around me, as once more the world dipped and swayed.

At first I could see nothing but light, a dim muted light that was disproportionately bright before my eyes adjust, if very slowly. Everything was blurry, and the chanting continued, a guttural sort of hymn echoing a crossed an expanse as my eye's came to land on a figure standing over me. A weight seemed to rest on my leaden wrist as I noticed for once, just how stiff and unresponsive my body was.

And I couldn't help the shudder I felt as my mind told me that this did not bode well at all. Not for me at least, as my eyes made out the face of the figure above me.

A man. Dark skinned, and bald seemed to waver back and forth in my sight as I realized that the reason the world seemed to be moving around me, was because it was. It was odd to feel the sway and buck of the surface bellow me, as the men on either end (Or I assumed that they were men) moved in time with what seemed like a steady current of people. They were all dressed in black robes, identical white porcelain masks covering their faces as the guttural hymn emanated from them.

I could feel canvas beneath me, as the white dress I wore rode up above my calf. My feet were bare, and I could feel the warmth in the air despite the strong winds tugging at the clothing of the figures around me. I attempted look to one side, but was unable to move my head as my neck responded only with the same dull sensations that the rest of my body reported.

Was I paralyzed? No, that didn't seem right. Drugged then probably. It seemed to fit, the sick dizzy feeling and lack of muscle control. Not to mention the sudden lack of memory. The stretcher moved up, and I felt as though I was being lifted over something as the man besides me removed his hand from my wrist before disappearing. A moment later and the man was back again, disturbing light in his brown/red eyes.

I felt the need to look away from him suddenly, and I did moving my eye's to observe the movement of my surroundings. Sandy brown bricks constructed walls on either side of the procession, broken with the type of wear that came only from the long decay of time. Occasionally there would be more sky, (Grey and clouded over) then brick, and then there were times when there was more brick then sky. But the hymn, and the hand of the man beside me were constant.

The weight of his fingers on my wrist bothered me, the feeling of his overly warm skin on my own felt intrusive in a way I couldn't entirely describe as I tried to pretend he was not there. I couldn't even tell you what it was that bugged me so much about him; it was just like an inner voice telling me that I shouldn't and couldn't put up with this fowl creature being anywhere near me.

An old statue caught my eye, and let my gaze follow it until it passed out of my field of vision. I was slowly regaining feeling in my body, very slowly. The statue was ancient and worn like the rest of the city, or what I believed to be a city, but it stood out boldly. A colossal man headed cat, with wings protruding from its back. It's head had a funny hat or was it a crown? On top of its head.

Ancient... Sumerian? My brain seemed to supply, as though it were familiar with such things. And really, was it? I couldn't entirely remember. My mind was strangely detached, and I couldn't entirely feeling anything. It was then I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye, and I went deathly still. A monster; dead fleshy white skin in the image of a man, eyelids pulled back in a way that would be painful for any human, and great white staring eyes.

My own eyes moved to stare at it strait on, instinct screaming at me to keep this creature in full view. But it was suddenly gone and the man who held my wrist turned noticing my state of awareness.

"So our little lamb is awake is she?" He move his hand towards my face, and I couldn't stop the weak attempt to get away. "Do not worry child, I will not harm you." I almost felt a hint of relief at this, until he continued. "That isn't my place. You will be with The Firstborn soon."

The entourage moved onwards, as he moved his hand to grip my wrist again. Apprehension twinge my mind, but was quelled soon by the odd sense that I was not alone.

_ "Retribution will be yours" _Came a voice from my lips that both was, and wasn't mine. The same voice that told me to open my eyes, the same voice that I knew from before.

And the man looked at me oddly, before smiling.

"Indeed it will, little witch. Indeed it will."

And the entourage carried on, but I couldn't help but think that this man was taking it in the wrong context. It wasn't me that was speaking, true they were using my lips to communicate; but words weren't mine

_"I give you one warning Daemon."_ Said the voice again, and the man turned back to look at me._ "The lambs Shepard is a Wolf."_

"Silence yourself, witch."

The voice went quiet, and for moment I thought perhaps it had left. Then in my mind I caught a sense of the voice again, and it seemed to be amused _'The lambs Shepard is a wolf, but a kind one'_ range through my mind, a thought not entirely my own.

The world seemed to fade in and out, as my mind gave way to the drugs that were in my system, and consciousness came in small fits as I attempted to fight against myself. Fighting the overwhelming need to sleep that was induced by the drug, and the sickness in my stomach that was apparently a symptom.

At one point I felt my world tilt, and I opened my eyes to find myself being lifted up, onto a raised surface that gave me a brief look at those around me. A crowd of masked people, circling around what could only be a dais. A dais that I was soon lowered down onto, before those carrying me left quickly.

The man released my hand as he went to speak to the others, before grasping something from one of them. For the first time I noticed that he was dressed in a slightly grander version of the same outfit that the others sported. Before I noticed what he now held in his hand.

A knife, wickedly curved and sharp.

Then they turned their attention to me, and I had the sudden urge to melt into the ground as he came towards me. The odd chanting seemed to pick up, as the man took his place at my side again and the others seemed to melt away into the crowd.

The man raised his arms, and the volume of the chant lowered to a hum.

"Today!" The man said, and I felt suddenly that I would really rather be somewhere else. I attempted to roll over, to move away. But my limbs refused to cooperate, my arms at very least twitched a bit moving slowly but nowhere near enough. "Today is the last of days. Today, we bring fourth our true master. Today we bring The Firstborn into our realm where it truly belongs!"

I felt a shiver run through me as I tried to gain control of my limbs, and flee. I needed to leave, I needed to leave NOW!

"Today, we bring fourth our salvation!" He said again, and the chant rose again before he leaned down grasping my wrist once more. "Let this innocent be taken into the hands of the Firstborn, as it is her blood that shall set It free."

He grasped my hand forcing the palm open, dragging the sharp knife a crossed my palm, slicing it from just below my index finger, to the bottom of my palm. The chanting rose to an almost feverish pitch, as pain lanced through my hand, and suddenly I had a sense of triumph in my mind. As a feeling of alien power crept around me, threatening to consume me yet... Unable to.

The scream of a siren split the air, low wailing cry echoing as the sky darkened, and the man was now looked about as though he didn't quite know what to make of the situation.

Instead the sound of a lone voice rose above the rest, a familiar smoky voice that wove a wordless tune over the screaming. The voice that was in my head, was singing? But not in my head this time, as anyone could clearly see. Then the feverish pitch of the chant broke with a scream, and was soon joined by another and another as an entirely different hum permeated the air.

This time wordless, and very much not human. I couldn't see very much of anything from where I was, but the pain in my hand seemed to ebb away at the numbness in my limbs. The creepy man dropped my arm, and the knife he'd been carrying in favor of a revolver before stepping over me and away. The knife landed less than a foot from my still bleeding hand, and I took the opportunity to grasp it clumsily. I could feel it in my hand, but I could not FEEL it. As though I were gripping hollow space in the form of a knife- like I'd slept on my arm long enough for it to lose all but the most basic of feeling. Encompassing my entire body…

"Protect the innocent! The Firstborn cannot be freed without her!" The monster/man cried, as some of the robbed figures attempted to rally around him. But as I pushed myself up on protesting muscles, catching sight of what exactly they were trying to protect me from I knew they would fail.

A horde of rotten flesh creatures, some skinless and dog shaped, others upright and human in form. All hideous mockery's of flesh and form that seemed natural to the world, advancing on the crowd as though a long hunt were drawing to a close.

The long low wails of the mass of creatures made me shudder as I scuttled back, away from the robed figures and their attackers. My legs were still relatively numb, but something told me staying was a very good way to get dead. On purpose or by accident was anyone's guess, as I shoved the knife into the bodice of the gown and began to drag myself away, mind in denial as it tried desperately to digest exactly what those creatures were.

I flopped off the dais with thump, stopping only to get my bearings as the drugs in my system caused the world to spin and sway. I moved dragging myself towards the edge of the arena like area the dais had been in, slowly but surely as I wove my way through the frantically moving crowd.

One man tripped over me, another stepped on my uninjured hand. But nothing would stop me from getting away, nothing could stop me. Because the same beautiful, terrible voice that was singing to the creature's around us, was also speaking to me in a way that words couldn't.

I moved myself towards a half fallen pillar, using it to slowly inch myself up onto numb feet and unsteady legs before using the wall as a makeshift support as I moved along. Balance was an issue since I could move my legs, but couldn't feel them as I tottered along.

Away from the screams. Away from the monsters. And into the dark and crumbling city, as I left the people to their fate.

Retribution indeed.

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A/N: I would like to give credit where its due and say the line about the Shepard and the Wolf are both creations of the Author of Fatal Fascination~ Its another Silent Hill fic around here's somewhere.


	2. Chapter 2: Into the Storm

**A/N:** Chapter two not much more to be said on it at the moment. A lot longer then I actually thought it was. Eitherhoo, I'll probably post then next chapter and see if I can't write something for Build a god. . Things have become rather stressful for me ATM so no guarantees.

**Disclaimer:** They've come to witness the beginning. The rebirth of paradise despoiled by mankind. I have nothing to do with this; ergo I do not own it. If you recognize it? Probably not mine, if you don't? Probably is. Please ask if you wish to use any of my insane elements in anything you want to do. Or at least give me links? I am a horrible fan-girl of fan-girls. Figure that one out.

_"Thoughts, dreams or feelings_" : Italics are sometimes used so that you can tell when something is a thought, feeling, or dream.

"Words" :Spoken Dialoge

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_**A Stray Sun**_

_Chapter 2: _**Into The Storm**

By: Tamuril Telrunye A.K.A Bamvivirie

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_"...and God created The Firstborn in her own image. An entity neither male nor female, dark nor light; a singular being that was both beautiful and terrible to behold. Disturbed by the power of his creation, God left it unfinished, banishing The Firstborn from reality to the Abyss, forsaken and unloved. In its place, God started afresh, the slate wiped clean. She divided her creation into two sexes, gave it intellect, reason, emotion. She gave it the gift of love. She gave it a soul._

_Biblical Apocrypha; Gnostic texts_

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_ The wind whipped around him as he dream again. How many times had he come here before? He couldn't say. The desert, the storm, and the child at its feet waving at him; beckoning to him. But this time was different. This time the child was in front of him, offering him its hand. Waiting._

_ Always waiting for him._

I jolted awake slipping sideways from my perch against a sand covered wall, to land face first in the dirt. Groaning as my head began to ache. I couldn't entirely remember where I was. Or really how i'd- Oh wait, the creeper-guy with the knife, and the Cult and the monsters.

Yeah, at least that much was coming back to me. Although I did have to admit that I didn't believe any of it for a second. Well, until I noticed the nice sharp knife stuck down the front of my top, and pressing against my sternum with wicked promise.

My body was still horribly numb, but I didn't have much choice but to press forward. Although I couldn't even begin to guess which direction I'd come from initially. I looked up and around, noting dark ruddy colored drag marks along the wall to my left occasionally punctuated by smeared hand prints.

Never mind.

I get it. I lifted my hand starring at the blood covered palm with a distant sort of worry. How much blood had I lost? I couldn't say. But the wound on my palm was closed, a jagged molted mess of scabbed flesh that protested when I attempted to flex it.

How long had I been slumped here? To long if you listened to my protesting muscles; But not long enough if you listened to the buzz of exhaustion that hung in the back of my mind. The same buzz of exhaustion that reared its ugly head when I was woken after an already long day. Which begs the question, what woke me? I wouldn't have woken otherwise. Not when I was this tired. My eye's slid shut again, as my mind grasped once more at sleep.

_'Wake'_

Said a voice that caused me to jolt awake once more.

_ 'Wake little one, for this place is no longer safe.'_

I looked around, suddenly very disturbed and alert. I saw nothing, but I wasn't about to blow the warning off. Particularly since the voice had been right. I was very exposed here, slumped against a convenient area of half worn and broken wall- open and exposed to the world. I was lucky none of the cultists, for they could be nothing else; hadn't already stumbled over me.

_'Mortals are the least of our worry's little one.'_

'Wait. What?' I thought at the voice, for it spoke only in my head. As I shoved myself up, steadying myself against the wall as my legs protested the movement. They were still quiet numb, but manageable.

_'Two kinds of hell walk this earth. And they have been brought together this day.'_

I tottered forward, ignoring the horrid sense of vertigo I was still getting. My body hadn't had sufficient time to clear the drug from my system, apparently and I groaned a bit as the knife poked me. I needed to find a better place for the damn thing. As I stumbled forward, dragging myself along the wall until it ended. There was a considerable distance between this wall and the next, so I shoved myself upright then away from the wall and towards the next. Using my momentum to carry me towards the next wall.

And I shuffled along this wall the same way I had the last, compensating for the damaged portions of wall by what I now dubbed 'leaps of faith'. Before stopping to lean against a mostly upright portion of wall. My breathing was heavy as I stood there, trying to gather my strength and move onward.

_'Just a little further.'_ The voice seemed to say as I waited, vertigo playing hell to my sense of up and down as I fought the urge to throw up. I pushed myself along, ignoring the crumbling state of the wall I was using and pressing forward.

The wall itself seemed to waver back and forth in my vision as I moved, and I closed my eyes focusing instead on the feeling of the brick under my bruised and tender fingers. Swallow the bile that rose in my throat, I kept moving forward. Push shuffle shuffle, push shuffle shuffle. The odd rhythm gave me some small comfort, as I moved along.

Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump. Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump.

Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump. Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump.

Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump. Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump.

I felt my body thump against the brick wall between each push. Push, shuffle, shuffle, thump and the sound of creaking brick. I opened my eyes in time to think. 'Oh Shit!' before the wall gave way under my weight, dumping me down the other side. And subsequently, down the embankment that was on that side of the wall.

I tumbled head over heels, hitting the bottom with a thump fighting my own body for a moment as I attempted to breath. The wind had been knocked from my lungs, but I was face up at least, starring at the strangely darkened sky. Not as dark as it had been when the cultists were fighting those monsters, but still unusually dark. My mind decided then that voice or no, I was going to take a nap.

And the unusual color of the sky didn't matter to me anymore. My mind played somewhere between waking and sleep, odd hazy images of girl standing over me, a man with a barre and a tattoo. Then the image of another child, this one made of darkness and entirely featureless. Before I opened my eyes again to see a woman over me, dark skin and darker hair accentuated by the dark leather outfit she wore.

"Someone get a medic over here!" She barked, as a man in black leather ran off. She knelt down, placing a warm hand on my forehead and I got the oddest feeling. Like I knew I could trust her, because she was nice... Knowing without knowing. "Hold on sweet heart, we'll get ya outta here."

Another man came; the sense of soothing hands, and I closed my eyes as the world seemed to bleed from darkness and back again. Time blurred as voices played at being muffled, before stark clarity and then muffling again. I felt myself being picked up, no more the a boneless mass, as a male voice spoke.

"No serious damage that I can- but she might have hit her- pupils are severely dilated. she may have been dru-"

"-blood?" Came the female voice.

"Her ha- damaged. The blood- knife- looks to be hers- intruders."

"We should get her back to HQ- no use to us-"

And my mind wavered in and out again, as the feeling of the world moving around me returned. _'Rest little one, you are safe. For now at least. You stand at hells mouth, a brief respite is all we can afford.' _ Then true sleep at last, sweet blissful nothingness.

My eyes opened before my mind could entirely comprehend what was going on, and a whimper left my mouth as a bright light blinded me. Where was I?

"Well, it looks like someone is awake," a male voice rumbled as I moved my arm to cover my eyes. The light dimmed, and I moved my arm away as a man's face came into focus above me. Older, grey hair and blue eyes framed in a face that was weathered by years. "Welcome back to the land of the living."

"Eh?" Was all I could manage to get out, since my tongue seemed to suffer from the same paralysis as my legs... Although I could honestly say that I could now feel my lower half for the most part.

"Wonderfully articulate, aren't we?" He took out a small pen light, flashing it into my eyes as he checked their dilation. "Wilkins, get Muriel down here. She'll want to talk to the kid herself."

"Yes sir." Came a voice from the corner, beyond my current blurred range of vision before movement told me that he'd left the room.

A few minutes passed and the doctor had me sit up to do a few reflex tests, which I seemed to pass despite the fact that I could barely feel the light taps he made with his reflex hammer. We were almost to the end of the tests before a woman came in the door.

The same dark skinned woman from before, smaller in stature then the doctor but larger then myself. About... Five nine. I guessed as she approached, looking at the doctor.

"So doc, whats the verdict?"

"She'll live; no permanent damage to the hand, it'll heal up nicely since it was a clean cut. But she's still got drugs in her system."

"What kinda drugs we talking about?"

"White Claudia mostly from what I can see; it's a powerful hallucinogen when used it small doses."

"Can you tell if she took it willingly."

"Definitely a negative on that."

"Do I want to know how you know that?"

"Needle marks on her arm suggest more than one dosage, but I also found ligature marks on her arms and legs. On top of that, I've noted that it was distributed in larger doses. As I've said it's a hallucinogen when used in small doses, but anything larger tends to render users... Unconscious for long periods of time, which tells me she couldn't have given herself a secondary or tertiary dose."

"Damn. So they wanted to keep her quiet?"

"And they succeeded, for the most part. I am honestly surprised this girl is even breathing, let alone awake." He finished with, rubbing his hand over his salt and pepper mustache.

"Do you think she would know anything?"

"I don't even know if she can talk, I haven't gotten a word out of her." They both turned to look at me as the world dipped to the left and I decided to join it, slumping back onto the surface of the bed.

"I would say that's a negative, we'll have to send a team to the alter. Purify the area just in case."

"Do we have enough people to do that? We're on a skeleton crew already."

"Yeah, we should be able to pull it off. I'll have your people moved to the east side bunker, just in case."

"Thanks Muriel."

"Not a problem. Pack up the kid, I'll send a message to HQ. Alert them to the situation."

The woman- Muriel moved out the door as the doctor moved towards me, moving my feet up onto the bed before covering me with a thin hospital issue blanket.

"Try to sleep," he said, putting is hand to my forehead before walking away. "Ridiculous as it seems, you'll need it."

And I decided to oblige him in this, although my sleep was once more riddled by passing moments of consciousness and peculiar dreams. Something that I gathered, wasn't entirely unusual for me before... This, for some odd reason. I shivered a bit as I came to for a brief moment, noting that I was once again moving before slipping once more into an oddly familiar dream.

_I stood in a desert, dark-child offering me its hand._

_ A familiar dream that I'd had many times before, but not one that truly seemed to belong to me. A long moment passed, before I grasped the dark-child's hand an odd chill running up my arm as I walked beside it._

_"It's happening again." Said the dark-child, speaking to a me that was not myself. A man, he was speaking to a man and I was the man... But I was not the man, I was seeing as he was seeing. I was an observer in this dream, this dream that belonged to another like myself; nothing more._

_ "Where is this?" he said, rough voice echoing oddly in the otherwise quiet dream scape, walking every closer to a massive whirlwind, a massive looming tornado that raged in the distance._

_ "This is where it all started." Said the child, letting go of his hand and pointing as it turned to look at him._

"_This isn't real." He said, knowing now that it was another one of his dreams._

_ "It's as real as your soul." Said the child once more. "Help me."_

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I woke heart racing as I sat up, I clutched at my chest and willing my breathing to slow as I noticed my surroundings for the first time. A small,dark room. But the truth was that I was barely seeing the room around me, instead fixating on the cold terrible feeling of the dark-child's hand. It scared me. It scared me in a way I wasn't sure I could be scared, before now.

I sat shivering for a moment as the sound of movement, and voices came in through the metal door. Muffled as they were, I couldn't help but welcome them. But the tone of the voices soon made my hair stand on end, as the comments flew back and forth in an almost rapid fire succession.

Then the door clanged open, and my hand flew to cover my eyes as I was once more blinded.

"Ah, your awake." Said a somewhat familiar voice, and I looked up blurrly to see the face of the doctor as he entered the room. "This is good. Can you understand me?"

I nodded, I must have had the worst case of dry mouth. Because my tongue felt all... Well fuzzy, the sort of state you know you can't talk in.

"Can you speak?"

I shook my head this time.

"A shame, we have quite a few questions for you."

I gave a sort of helpless shrug as another man came through the door.

"Convenient, don't you think doc?" Said the man, younger and definitely not as friendly.

"I would wager she finds it quite a bit inconvenient actually, Simon's." The doctor said as her moved his hands to grip my head, using a pen light to examine my eyes. I jerked a bit, as the light moved from eye to eye groaning at the flares of pain. My eyes I guess were still really sensitive to light. "Very inconvenient indeed. Have you gotten word from Muriel yet?"

"Nah, can't raise her on the damn radio, statics playing hell with any reception in here." Simon's said, glaring at a small hand held device that I was assuming was the radio in question. I couldn't quite make out the details, either because of the light or my eye's I couldn't say.

The doctor then proceeded to check my reflexes again, before letting loose a sound that was something close to pleased.

"Well, the minute you do let her know that that girl is lucid enough to at least answer a few questions." He leveled a look at me again before asking "Can you write?"

I nodded in response, and he shuffled off to sort through a box before coming back with a standard yellow pad and a run of the mill pencil. He handed them to me, and I gripped them loosely before rolling the pencil around in my fingers a bit. Setting the pad of paper on my lap, I moved the pencil around trying to get a feel for it between my fingers. There were still somewhat numb.

"So, your motor functions have improved. Girl?" I looked up to the doctor, and he for once seemed puzzled. "I can't really be calling you girl all the time. What's your name?"

I blinked putting my pencil against the paper again, and resting it there. What was my name?

Did even have one? I knew how to write, and come to think of it how to read. And draw. But my name? I took the pencil away, pressing the eraser to my lips. I had to have a name, everyone had one.

But what was it?

* * *

A/N: Because I know that curios minds might inquire. This is a translation of the brief conversation between Muriel and the medic.

_"No serious damage that I can see, but she might have hit her head on the way down. Her pupils are severely dilated. Initially I thought it was a concussion, but she may have been drugged."_

_ "What about all the blood?" Came the female voice._

_ "From her hand mostly, nothing else to badly damaged. The blood on the knife looks to be hers, I am thinking she was brought in with the intruders."_

_ "We should get her back to HQ, she's no use to us dead."_

As for the drug White Claudia, just another Silent hill reference. Right now I am working with the material from Silent Hill 2,3 and the movie as well as some threads to the beginning of Jericho. More investigation into silent hill 2 is needed, since I am planning to feature someone certain from there as well as the movie. Silent hill 4 I am acquainted with, but I don't know if I should try to work anything in from it... Maybe. Possibly the others, but no guarantees.

For certain I will say that the Nurses will be making their debut, as well as the Split-dogs, because they are the ones I am more familiar with.


End file.
